


Night Swim

by calvairelier (hraundrac)



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: But it's only in the last third of the fic so it's skippable, M/M, Oral Sex, They're adults and I make it very clear, Trans Male Character, Trans Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hraundrac/pseuds/calvairelier
Summary: "We haven't gone for a swim like this in a long time. We've both grown a lot and changed in… unfamiliar ways." His free paw lifted out of the water and dared to graze against Snufkin's thigh, where sparse fur had grown in the last few years. The hairs raised under his touch. "I'd like to see what's new… if you're okay with that." He didn't look up. "I'll make it good for you."





	Night Swim

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna say I've been working on this on and off for two months now but um. I might have. Turns out what happens when you spend too long on something is you start to get carried away, as the word count might suggest... There's already been similar stuff posted by this point but I figured I'd add to the pile anyway.
> 
> EDIT: Went back and proofread and fixed several mistakes.
> 
> \--
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> 1\. Before anyone says anything, I'm a trans man so don't @ me, this isn't kink. Unless you count liking the concept of being desired and cherished a kink. In which case I don't know what to tell you. But either way you can trust that this is authentic and I've made it sappy as hell.
> 
> 2\. The way I'm approaching this is that Moomintrolls and Mumrikar aren't genetically compatible, nor are they prone to contracting anything from each other. It might be a cop-out but one has got to find ways to be self-indulgent sometimes...

It had been a late Autumn day, perhaps too close to fall for Moomin's liking, but despite the passing months, the heat had yet to release its grasp on the valley.

Moomin should have been glad, but it was hard to maintain a good mood when the sun was beaming down against him so harshly. It was much too hot, even for Summer months, and Moomin's velvet fur and layer of fat did him no favors in such unusual weather. He had opted to stay indoors as much as he could, with his parents, Sniff, Snorkmaiden, and Little My as company. Perhaps if they had all left for different valleys upon adulthood they would not have been suffering so, but Moomintrolls were reluctant to let their children go, and Moomin did not much want to leave either. So they all sat around the parlor table in the direction of the many fans that the family had set up. All but Moominpappa refused the hot coffee which Moominmamma insisted would balance out their body temperatures, in favor of sipping chilled drinks which said mother kindly supplied.

Moomin hadn't seen Snufkin once that day, although he hadn't dared venture out to find him. Perhaps he had been wandering about, looking for a cool spot in the shade to escape the heat. Moomin wished he could have Snufkin indoors at a time like that. He surely would have been able to convince him.

But once the day had passed and he had heard Snufkin's whistle from below his window at the first sign of the dimming sky, Moomin had not hesitated to brave the heat of the still present sun, sitting comfortably on the horizon as if it intended to stay there long enough to see the entire valley melt.

Careful not to wake the other residents of the house, he had climbed down his ladder as quietly as he could muster. He was too old now to be sneaking out of his house, but it was only polite to take the more discreet exit. He had always been free to come and go as he wished, but even more so now as his parents no longer had reason to coddle him. Still, he had to admit there was something exciting about going out with Snufkin at night, even without the need for secrecy, and Moomin stubbornly refused to let go of that feeling. His friend only had to give the signal, and wherever he went Moomin would follow excitedly and without hesitation. And he was never given any reason to regret it.

Certainly not then, when Snufkin suggested they ought to go for a swim. Not in the sea, though perhaps it would have been more refreshing, but someplace much more special. Someplace they hadn't been to in some time.

It was only natural to think of the cave. The overbearing heat was vaguely reminiscent of when the comet had loomed over the valley, and their minds could not keep from making the association. It had kept them safe then, and it would keep them comfortable now, in its dark and cool embrace.

Not to mention, it had been their cave for a few years. A private place to escape to, for those times when the open sea felt much too exposed, even at night, and one simply needed a cozy and secluded spot with good company. There would be certainty of no peering eyes or curious ears. One could easily speak their mind freely in such a place, and wash off the burdens of the day.

Yes, after years of floods and rain water pouring in through the crack in the roof, the cave had become a veritable sanctuary. Where the water had dug a hollow in the sandy floor there now stood a small clear pool. Not too deep, but not too shallow either. Just right enough for a Mumrik or a young Moomin to stand in immersed up to the waist; just right enough to splash around in, but not quite swim.

It was curious that they had stopped going. Neither would admit it, but the cave held a deep nostalgic feeling, and why it hadn't called Moomin back to it sooner was a mystery. Nonetheless, it was calling to him now. So, eagerly clasping Snufkin's paw, Moomin set off with him down the familiar path to the beach in comfortable silence. Both ignored the sweat between their palms.

Admittedly, once there it had proven harder than they remembered for Moomin to walk the ledge leading to the cavern. And it had proven even harder to squeeze through the opening. Snufkin had gone on ahead of him without any problem, their paws falling apart, Moomin's fur unsticking from the Mumrik's bare wrist, tacky with dried sweat. They couldn't complain, it had been quite unpleasant despite how much they wanted the contact.

But the Mumrik hadn't grown an inch since the last time they were there, unlike Moomin, who now found himself quite taller and wider. He didn't know how Mamma and Pappa had managed back then. The entrance surely must have been bigger. Perhaps the pool had displaced the sand. He wasn't entirely sure, but whatever the case it was a little upsetting.

It was as he finally got through that Snufkin, who had been patiently waiting, broke the long silence they had kept the whole way there.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" He asked with a particular tone to his voice, one Moomin recognised well as being politely amused. He knew instantly that Snufkin was referring to his struggle getting into the cave. How rude! He didn't have to mention it!

Moomin huffed, glaring at his friend as the latter settled on the dry sand along the wall of the cave and took off his hat. Moomin was about to make a retort about Snufkin's own size when the pool caught his eye. Light shone through the opening in the roof, illuminating the water in a way more beautiful than one could ever commit to memory. It made the whole place look magical, enhancing the bittersweet feelings that had bloomed in Moomin's chest.

It really had been a while. Once again, he found himself wondering why. Perhaps they had gotten to a point where they thought it too childish to keep doing this, and stopped short before the freedom of adulthood could sink in and convince them otherwise. Or maybe puberty had shocked them both too much, a weirdness growing between them where there had previously been none. Or maybe they had simply forgotten these moments, so wrapped in in growing that their memories of childhood had to be pushed aside.

Or maybe Snufkin hadn't stopped coming here at all. Maybe only Moomin had.

Snufkin had always been independent, always responsible, and always a seasoned vagabond, well aware of the world. He had no need to learn these things like Moomin had, he already knew them. And he certainly did not feel the need to make something more of himself just to meet societal convention. No, Snufkin would have never had a reason to leave these little wonders behind.

And clearly, there were signs that he hadn't. The water was far too clean for years of neglect, leaves scooped out and piled against a wall. Not enough for so many years, but certainly a few weeks, so it couldn't simply have been preparation for this very night. No, Snufkin had been here regularly. No one but he could have been so easily taking care of the place.

Something painful tugged at Moomin's heartstrings. He turned to look at Snufkin, wondering if his friend blamed him at all. Sitting under the skylight, eyes closed, boots now off and placed beside his hat, Snufkin looked completely at peace. Moomin could see his genuine smile, and could find no ill feelings in it. Of course Snufkin held no resentment towards him for any of this. Moomin felt foolish. Snufkin understood and accepted distance and change better than anyone.

Despite all that, Moomin still felt the need to make amends, to make the most of the night. If only for the sake of lost time.

A youthful giddiness rose up in him then, and Moomin did nothing to stop it. Snufkin's eyes opened as he drew closer. He gave Snufkin only a grin as warning before scooping him up, the Mumrik light as always and the worn fabric of his coat bunching up in the troll's strong arms. And then Moomin promptly jumped into the water, dunking Snufkin in along with him. In the latter's unprepared and curled up form, he sank fully to the sandy bottom, a paw accidentally slapping Moomin's snout on his way down.

When he surfaced, hair hanging damp over his eyes, Moomin couldn't help but laugh, and Snufkin's own bubbled out of him easily. It echoed in the tiny space, loud and full of life, encouraging their silliness. Snufkin shoved Moomin playfully, and got splashed in return. They continued like that for a few minutes, pushing and dunking each other until they were both thoroughly soaked.

Only when their antics died down did Snufkin seem to remember that he was still dressed. He pulled the edge of his waterlogged coat out of the water, and it hung sad and heavy from his grasp.

Moomin gasped in theatrical horror, but could not contain the hint of a giggle, and it made the other smile.

"I should probably take this off. As convenient as it is washing my clothes like this, it's not the most pleasant."

Moomin nodded in agreement. Truthfully, he didn't know how wearing clothes all day could have been pleasant, wet or not. Especially in this weather. The only times the vagabond ever removed a single layer was when they went swimming or bathing. It seemed silly to have control over how warm you were and not use it, but Moomin wasn't about to pretend he understood anything about clothing norms. Moomins only wore clothes on special occasions and to keep warm and cozy during hibernation. Every other time they relied solely on their fur, which stayed short but nonetheless warm in summer, and only grew out in winter when it was needed. And they could do nothing about it. So to him, Snufkin's habits were quite perplexing.

Or so he thought until Snufkin began to peel his coat off and Moomin finally, after so many years, understood exactly why the Mumrik needed clothes.

His usually loose off-white undershirt clung tight to his frame, translucent enough to hint at bare skin and a curious darker patch that seemed to run down the center of his torso. Something fluttered in Moomin's stomach at the sight. Oh. That was quite intriguing, and quite indecent.

Snufkin's coat landed with a wet slap onto dry sand, but Moomin was still too focused on the captivating sight to notice him throwing it aside. His gaze followed Snufkin's fingers as they went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

The fabric opened up, revealing the mystery. Upon Snufkin's chest lay a sparse patch of fur, wet and flat against his skin. Moomin didn't remember ever seeing that. He wondered how it would look when dry, if it would be fluffy like Snufkin's hair.

As if on cue, Snufkin bowed his head as he reached into the water, and Moomin lost sight of his chest behind that wet mop of hair. It snapped him out of his trance, and he began to chuckle as he realised Snufkin was attempting to peel his socks off underwater and struggling greatly. He hopped around on one leg, trying his best to keep his balance and making small grunts of frustration as he pulled with all his might. When he finally managed to pull one off all the way, the force made the beige, stained thing jump out of the water like an eel. Snufkin nearly fell trying to catch it and Moomin's laughter grew into full guffaws.

"Knock it off. You're lucky you don't wear socks." Snufkin muttered with no real anger as he threw the thing into his growing pile of clothes and proceeded to fight against his remaining sock.

Moomin's sides started to hurt from how much he was laughing, doubled over with a paw clutching his chest. He almost didn't notice when Snufkin had freed himself from his second adversary until it hit him in the snout and he stood up, outraged, peeling the undergarment off his face. It smelled like wet dog.

"Treachery!"

He tried throwing it back at his laughing friend only to miss the target completely as it flopped against the cave wall. Snufkin's attention followed his sad aim, so Moomin took his chance and launched himself in his direction with a loud splash. Snufkin only had a brief moment to startle before being dunked into the water once again. Moomin's paw buried into his hair to keep him down, but it was to no avail as Snufkin slipped from his grasp easily and resurfaced right in front of him with a loud inhale and not an ounce of anger.

They grasped onto each other without thinking, too caught up in their laughter. The crown of Snufkin's head pressed into Moomin's shoulder as his friend shook in his arms. Flowers bloomed inside Moomin's chest, lilies floating at water level.

Oh how he loved him. Oh how he loved that laugh, that grin, the feel of the Mumrik's paws grasping his arms, the feel of his skin and the fuzz on his back...

Oh! The fuzz!

Moomin's giggles stopped abruptly, shocking Snufkin's to a stop as well. Moomin hardly even heard the confused sound the other made. He was much too enthralled by his new discovery.

It was hard to tell with how sparse it was if the hair on his back actually felt anything like the one on his head. It molded to Snufkin's jutting shoulder blades, and trailed off into a V shape down his spine. Moomin ran his paw back up against the direction of the hairs and felt where they joined the ones at the nape of Snufkin's neck. Something about the feeling of muscles and vertebrae under his touch seemed tender, and Moomin wanted to linger there.

He didn't get to for much longer. Snufkin pushed away in a haste that brought Moomin back to his senses. He looked flustered and tense, not meeting Moomin's eye. The movement of the water as he backed away had Moomin inclined to do the same.

He instantly felt very ashamed and upset with himself for disrespecting Snufkin's space. He shouldn't have done that. He knew better.

But Snufkin only cleared his throat and looked away for a few seconds, and when he looked back it was as if nothing had happened, and he was wearing his usual smile.

Moomin didn't have much more time to dwell on it before he was splashed again and had to brace himself for an all-out battle.

\---

Soon enough, Moomin had forgotten everything about what had happened. They had completely exhausted themselves roughhousing, and the sky had grown darker without their notice, changing the atmosphere of the cave completely.

Moomin watched, entranced, as Snufkin climbed out of the water. Drops rolled down his back, glinting like pearls. His skin shone like he was made of silver, or gold, or any other precious metal that could have conveyed just how much he was worth to Moomin.

Unlike Snufkin, Moomin lacked night eyes and couldn't see much in the shadows, but the parts of Snufkin's form that were touched by the light reflecting off of the water were enough for his mind to conjure a full form, of muscles and jutting bones lined like a soft pastel drawing. And when Snufkin looked over his shoulder at him, those night eyes bright as stars, and no doubt caught him staring slack jawed, Moomin was convinced he saw Snufkin's features twitch into an unfamiliar expression. It was gone as soon as it came and Moomin could not confirm that he had actually seen it at all.

He should have felt ashamed, but in the intimate confines of the cave, with the calm water and the darkness acting like blankets over reality he felt uncharacteristically bold. As if he could tell Snufkin everything he felt, right then and there, and it would just float into the air between them like a dream.

Snufkin turned fully and crouched over the water. He was balanced on his toes, knees together, looking for all the world like he could read Moomin's thoughts and was waiting patiently for them to be spoken into existence.

But when Moomin began to swim closer, something between them shifted and his friend's body language changed, failing to conceal a sudden nervousness. Perhaps it was the lack of a large coat to hide under that made it easier for Moomin to see how still he was, how his elbows were drawn close and his back hunched. He wanted to ease his worries. To tell him exactly what he meant to. To speak those words into his skin until Snufkin unfurled.

For some reason, that image drew a wall between his thoughts and mouth and he found himself incapable of acting out on his earlier courage. Moomin silently cursed himself for letting the moment slip from his fingers so quickly.

His change in demeanor did not go unnoticed by the ever vigilant Mumrik. Snufkin's voice was soft, merely a whisper as he spoke his name, as if it could shatter the atmosphere.

"Moomintroll?"

It bounced against the walls, giving it that same dreamy quality that Moomin had been lost in just a moment ago. It was enough to pull him forwards, to close the last few feet between them.

Moomin came to a stop at the edge of the pool where the sandy ground inclined up, settling onto his stomach in the shallow area. His movements caused water to overflow onto the rocks. Snufkin stumbled slightly and, without thinking, Moomin stretched a paw out to his friend's knee to steady him. This close, the light reflecting onto Snufkin's eyes wasn't so blinding and when Moomin looked up, he could see through the glow that his pupils were full blown, dark as an abyss that could swallow Moomin right up if not for the clear barrier holding it back.

Moomin had to remind himself again that he wasn't dreaming. The illusion hadn't been broken fully, and he found that he kept slipping into that state with every new thing he noticed about Snufkin. He knew he should take his paw back; should give Snufkin more space. He couldn't bring himself to do so. All he could do was look away.

Snufkin must have thought something was wrong. "What's on your mind?" He asked, setting his own paw over Moomin's. He certainly would not be able to pull it back now. Snufkin had sealed his fate, locked Moomin into the path he had impulsively chosen.

Well, not quite. There was no pressure in Snufkin's hold, only gentle reassurance. Moomin could still run; could still give an excuse if he wanted to. But he didn't, not really. So he turned his paw over to clasp onto Snufkin's, and spoke the first thing on his mind.

"I'm really glad I'm here with you."

Snufkin blinked twice, then his face softened, eyes twinkling as they scrunched up happily in that way that Moomin loved. 

"So am I," Snufkin hummed, squeezing Moomin's paw and tilting forward just so, moving out of direct light, where the reflections from the water were blocked by his legs. The shadows crawled over his face, the moon only able to trace the outline of his hair in a ghostly fashion. Moomin lost his main way to read the other, and felt that Snufkin was further away than ever.

His impulse was to draw him back into the light; to reach out and kiss him until he felt real again. But Moomin was too far down, so he settled for the closest thing, hastily pulling Snufkin's paw closer and bumping his snout against it. The specter of his friend didn't startle or pull away and Moomin did not wish to look into the dark empty space again. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondered if Snufkin even understood his intentions.

Moomin focused on the water lapping around him, the warmth against his paw, the sound of Snufkin's steady breathing, and let his brain disconnect and his mouth speak.

"It's nice being just the two of us." Of course, it always was. "Away from everyone else. No Little My to bother us…" Snufkin hummed in response but did not interrupt, clearly picking up that Moomin had more to say.

"I like these moments. They're… peaceful… cozy… You know you're my best friend and your company is the greatest gift. But when it's just us, it's…" electric, enveloping, tender, open… "It's more than that. It makes me feel warm, in the good way. Not the way we were earlier." Moomin laughs and opens his eyes and Snufkin is back. Sometime in the middle of his confession, Snufkin had leaned forward and his face was lit up again. He was wearing a soft smile, and Moomin didn't know if it was because his friend agreed with him about the heat of the day, or if he was happy to hear that he made Moomin happy. Nonetheless, Moomin felt a certain fondness in that moment.

"Perhaps…" he ventured. "You can feel good too?"

Snufkin's expression turned confused and it instantly became clear that Moomin had not conveyed the meaning behind his words properly.

"I do," Snufkin responded quickly. "I feel much the same. I never feel drained when I'm with you, Moomintroll."

It was certainly sweet to hear it, but Moomin shook his head.

"I know, I know! Not that way. I meant… I… meant…" How was he supposed to broach this topic? Saying it too directly would be much too embarrassing. Something about Snufkin's magnetism in that moment drew out of him sensations that he could not shake, an itch to be close. Moomin figured he was already too deep into this. He might as well get it out any way he could.

"We haven't gone for a swim like this in a long time. We've both grown a lot and changed in… unfamiliar ways." His free paw lifted out of the water and dared to graze against Snufkin's thigh, where sparse fur had grown in the last few years. The hairs raised under his touch. "I'd like to see what's new… if you're okay with that." He didn't look up. "I'll make it good for you."

A sudden choked sound escaped his friend. When Moomin finally did look, Snufkin's back was straight as a board, his eyes wide and jaw slack. He could feel the shaking of his paw, and wondered if Snufkin must have gotten cold staying wet and out of the water for so long. Perhaps the night air had gotten cooler and Moomin had failed to notice what with the burning heat coursing through his body. But even ignoring that, Snufkin was a skinny thing, and despite the patches of fur, he was still bare in most parts, and he wasn't often without his coat. Moomin figured that he got chilled far easier than he did.

Snufkin's other paw pressed down on Moomin's, this time really keeping it on his leg, and Moomin assumed his theory to be true, pressing his chest against his friend's knees in an attempt to warm him up as best as he could. He would have to get out of the water if he wanted to hug him properly. But he couldn't with Snufkin's paws squeezing his own as if holding on for dear life. So he expected Snufkin to help him up instead.

But Snufkin did not pull. Instead, he set their hovering paws down onto his other thigh, and ran both connected sets of hands up his own form, dragging against the direction of his fur. They slid up, up, over bony hips and bare sides, as far up as Moomin's arms could reach, then back down again.

Oh! Oh...

Moomin got the cue, and when Snufkin released him, he went right back to touching him.

His fingers trailed over his friend's body curiously. Over his ribs, inward where a line of fur started in the middle of his torso and ran down, down, past his belly button to join with a fuzzy stomach. Then back to his hips, feeling the indents under his thumbs, and down his thighs again. His movements were slow, with slight pressure like he was trying to rub himself into Snufkin's skin and fur.

When he reached his knees again, Snufkin's legs opened for him invitingly, wet skin unsticking to reveal a damp patch of dense fur. That sole action answered Moomin's unsaid question and chased away any possible misunderstanding between the two of them.

Snufkin leaned back on his hands, chest falling as he exhaled deeply to calm the tremors in his limbs. He was letting Moomin see him, touch him. It was a rare gift, and one he was giving freely and eagerly. Moomin swore he would not waste it in vain.

Moomin's paws continued their way up the insides of his thighs, feeling where hair turned to bare, glistening skin.

The dark fur between Snufkin's legs held water in its curls like dewdrops. Moomin was fascinated by the sight but he knew he had to disturb the droplets if he was to do this. He twirled a finger into the coarse hair, much coarser than anywhere else on Snufkin's body that he had touched so far. It formed mesmerising swirls, meeting like crashing waves, or long, wild, untamed grass. It suited Snufkin beautifully.

Moomin's eyes followed a path down where the fur made way to reveal skin. He had never expected to be looking at his friend like this. He gazed up to seek permission in Snufkin's face. Snufkin nodded down at him and Moomin allowed himself to touch.

He moved dark curls gently away from skin tacky with sweat, dipping his fingers between fuzzy outer lips and velvety soft inner lips to reach the stubborn hairs. Snufkin really was furry all over down there, so much more than Moomin would have ever expected.

Uncovered, it reminded him of the clam shells strewn about the beach that they spent so much time at, and between, the frilly underside of a sea snail that Moomin had found a few days before and excitedly showed Snufkin. Said frills joined up to form a hood under which Snufkin stood erect, thin, a mere inch in length, very much unlike Moomin, and very intriguing as all beautiful and unfamiliar things were. It was a stunning sight. Moomin saw in Snufkin all the wonders that the world had to offer.

His finger trailed up, feeling the skin drag along. Snufkin had not seemed to react much until then, but as Moomin touched the tip of his cock, his hips twitched suddenly. Moomin took great joy in finally getting something out of him, so he brought his finger back to rub at it in small circles, pushing the hood away gently.

Snufkin stopped him, paw on his and Moomin's stomach sunk. He'd done something wrong, he'd gone too far. 

But Snufkin only smiled, and huffed out a breath.

"That's a little too much right now."

Moomin felt guilty for overworking him like that so early, but the feeling flew away when Snufkin moved him back down, between the lips he hadn't dared to part, where he found him wet and eager.

Oh. Clearly Moomin had been having more effect on him than he thought.

Snufkin showed him how to move, pressing three of his fingers flat against him and dragging them in circles. The wetness spread under his touch and Snufkin released him. Moomin excitedly kept up the motion.

The lips slipped between his fingers occasionally, and he pet as he went, outside, inside. Sliding up, back down, and up again to circle Snufkin's cock and wet the base, steering clear of the sensitive head.

Snufkin was still silent apart from his heavy breathing, but all it took was a look at his face for Moomin to tell that he was enjoying it. His lids were low, eyes glazed over as he looked back at him with a dopey smile, a single canine digging into his lower lip.

Moomin dipped back in, deeper, feeling every bump and wrinkle and depression under his finger. He knew a little of how it all worked from books his parents had given him to read many years ago (mostly about Moomins and Snorks, but some about other species like Mymbles) but feeling it all was a completely different thing, and he wondered if Snufkin was built at all like he'd read. He already seemed unique.

When Snufkin touched his paw again, it was to drag it back up to his cock, and Moomin knew it was okay now. He held it gently between two fingers, pumping it like he did with himself, and that seemed to be a good move as a sigh escaped Snufkin.

His finger trailed back to the tip and Snufkin squirmed under his touch, but did not pull away, or push his hand back, or tell him to stop. Still, Moomin did not wants to overstimulate him again so he took to alternating between petting at his lips and playing with his cock.

He had a thought then, spurred on by lust and affection. A need to be closer, to explore Snufkin in every way. Moomin took his fingers away and Snufkin cracked an eye open to stare at him curiously as Moomin held onto his thighs.

He leaned forward and nuzzled into his friend's furry thigh. Snufkin shivered from the warm breath on his skin and Moomin grinned wide.

"I'd like to taste you."

"Oh." Snufkin averted his gaze quickly, visibly flustered. And for all the sweetness of it, Moomin still pulled away.

"If you don't want me to, that's alright." He assured gently.

Snufkin shook his head but still did not look at him. "No, um…" He trailed off, mumbling something that Moomin was not able to catch.

"What was that?" He pressed on, grabbing hold of Snufkin's knee in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, as his hand was too far out of reach.

Snufkin swallowed loudly in the silence of the cave, and angled his head back towards him, but still avoided eye contact, preferring to fix his gaze on Moomin's paw.

"I'd really like that. A lot, actually…"

Moomin's ears wiggled in surprise.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Snufkin answered confidently.

In his excitement, Moomin almost failed to notice a major issue. He stopped just short of bumping Snufkin's pelvis with his snout.

"Oh."

That seemed to draw a laugh out of his friend, melting away any nervousness and Moomin could not resist joining in. Snufkin's arms gave in, and the man collapsed in the sand. His chest rose and fell with his laughter.

"I'm not sure how to do this," Moomin admitted between laughs.

Snufkin breathed heavy, calming down, and his paws fell over his ribs. He hummed, thinking, before glancing up at Moomin. Wordlessly, his legs unfolded from under him and settled over Moomin's shoulders, crossing behind his neck to pull him closer, and Moomin followed.

Snufkin reached out and cradled Moomin's snout lovingly, and Moomin almost melted in his hold. His heart did somersaults at the tender touch, and his eyes closed without his notice. Snufkin guided him forward to rest his snout down on his stomach, his coarse hair tickling Moomin's nose and mouth. His eyes snapped open when he realised where his mouth was.

He wasn't aligned properly, but with a bit of movement the position would work. Snufkin's feet fell down his back, kicking at the water and Moomin's arms curled under his thighs, gripping them carefully and resting his elbows down in the wet sand to support himself. He sank a bit, and scooted closer to make up for it.

The movement made the water lap at Snufkin where he sat, and the man laughed softly at the ticklish feeling, warm and relaxed. Moomin's eyes softened at the sound, and for a moment he forgot about what he was doing, simply enjoying the warmth and softness of Snufkin's body under his snout, his familiar, earthy smell, of dirt and grass and tobacco, with an underlying hint of fish and the raspberry leaves that he smoked on Sundays.

Snufkin stroked behind his ears and Moomin exhaled, feeling heavy and comfortable.

"Don't fall asleep on me now," Snufkin spoke softly, as if it might break the atmosphere, despite his words asking for just that. Moomin blinked up at him, and Snufkin blinked back, slowly, deliberately. Moomin didn't know what that meant, if it meant anything at all or if Snufkin was simply mocking him, but his tender heart took joy in the gesture. Absentmindedly, he nuzzled into Snufkin's fur.

It hit him all at once, like a bat to the face, and Moomin jumped back, only to be stopped by Snufkin's legs. Snufkin, who had startled as well, started making odd, reassuring sounds.

He didn't seem to realise what Moomin had done perhaps, and Moomin's tension flowed out of him at that, instead flushing deeply. It was the second time he'd kissed Snufkin that day. And in such a place!

"Are you quite alright?"

"Yes, yes." Moomin's mind scrambled for an excuse. "I nearly fell asleep."

"That would have been a shame," Snufkin responded with a cheeky little grin. "Are you awake enough to go back to what we were doing?"

Moomin glanced down and seemed to remember. "Oh! Yes…" He scooted back over, willing himself to calm down, and rested his snout back on Snufkin's pelvis. Snufkin's muscles untensed under his touch, and his head fell back into the sand, no longer looking at him, so Moomin decided he ought to stop wasting time and do what he intended.

He angled his snout up, lowering his mouth to adjust his position and feeling along with his lips. It must not have been the prettiest sight, had Snufkin been looking at him. He doubted he would have been able to see much other than his nose, as Moomin himself lost sight of Snufkin completely, instead seeing only the sky through the cave opening above them. Stars had started to appear. They would soon be basking in complete darkness for but a brief moment.

Moomin felt wetness against his lips, and pressed against it. Snufkin sighed and wrapped his hands behind his ears encouragingly, so he gave a tentative lick.

Snufkin tasted of very little, perhaps a subtle, indescribable something that coated Moomin's mouth. But he smelled, oh he smelled. Musky, complex, warm.

Moomin lapped at him, tongue flat, as Snufkin breathed long and heavy above him.

He wasn't sure what to do, so he settled for attempting to replicate what he'd been doing earlier with his fingers. 

His tongue swirled circles against Snufkin, interspaced with long licks upwards to the underside of Snufkin's cock. It seemed to do the trick.

Snufkin's thighs shuddered and his breath hitched when Moomin wrapped his lips around him. There wasn't much he could do but lick at him, tongue twirling around the small member.

A slim paw touched his cheek, thumb rubbing against his fur affectionately and seemingly mindlessly. The other scratched behind his ear once again, in time with Moomin's ministrations, and the troll couldn't help but hum around Snufkin. The feeling caused the latter to twitch under him, fingers stopping, and Moomin went back to lapping at his folds.

He traced aimless shapes into him, intent only on drawing twitches out of Snufkin and cleaning him of his own excitement. His tongue followed to its source, dipping into a depression and Snufkin's thighs clamped around his head, paws pulling him in.

Moomin pressed in obligingly, being met with slight resistance. He pet Snufkin's thighs and the Mumrik relaxed enough for Moomin to wiggle his way into him, earning a sharp intake of breath from Snufkin. But his paws remained pressing him forward, so Moomin did not worry. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, but there wasn't much he could do in the first place as his tongue did not reach deep enough to feel along inside Snufkin, only at his opening. So he took to pumping it in and out of his friend instead. Snufkin's thighs were wracked with tremors, Moomin could feel them under his paws and against his head.

Encouraged, he sucked around his tongue before briefly popping off to lick a long stripe up Snufkin's length and return to his opening. He kept up the alternating motions until Snufkin began to clench around his tongue and Moomin pulled out. Snufkin throbbed and fluttered under him, and more wetness met Moomin's tongue. He cleaned it up dutifully while Snufkin's orgasm shook through him.

When he was done, he pulled away and licked his lips, and Snufkin's legs limply slipped off his shoulders, splashing into the water on either side of him. His chest was rising and falling heavily.

Moomin moved out from between his legs, finding a spot at the edge of the pool to pull himself out of the water, and immediately joined Snufkin at his side, curling into the sand next to him. Snufkin had not moved an inch, but finally turned his head when Moomin settled next to him.

His eyes were heavy lidded, and filled with an emotion Moomin could not name and was not used to seeing. But he was wearing a small smile, and in the dark, Moomin had the impression that his face might have been flushed.

Snufkin's paw found his easily, and squeezed it tight, and the Mumrik's sluggish body rolled on its side to face him.

"That was nice," Snufkin spoke, voice breathy. And Moomin could do nothing but nod, his own voice suddenly lost.

They lay there for a moment, for what felt like both forever and no time at all, staring into each other's eyes and smiling, minds blank and unperturbed.

It was Snufkin who finally spoke.

"Would you like me to return the favor?"

Moomin, always polite, quickly refused. "Oh, no, you don't have to! It's quite alright!"

"I insist," Snufkin replied, lifting up on an elbow and leaning over Moomin's face.

"Oh. Well…" How could he not accept when Snufkin wanted to do that for him? He had to admit he was very curious. "I suppose, if you insist…"

Snufkin smiled and rose up onto his knees. Sand stuck to his side and hair from laying down, and he looked very much a dishevelled mess, but Moomin found it endearing.

Moomin sat up as well, but Snufkin's paws touched his waist and urged him to stand fully. It felt odd having Snufkin on his knees in front of him. Sure, Snufkin was shorter than him by a bit so he always stood under Moomin's full height, but this just wasn't the same.

Even after what he'd done to Snufkin, he still couldn't help feeling embarrassed.

He was fully erect by that point, having slipped out of his sheath sometime during the previous activities. Usually just inconspicuous pink skin hidden under a tuft of longer fur, it now instead stood out in its full glory. It was not particularly long, but thick along the shaft, with a ridge on the underside, a thinner base, and a unique rounded head. It was about the standard for Moomins, from what he'd read.

Snufkin's eyes shone happily at the sight of him and Moomin couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. So when Snufkin started crawling forward, Moomin's impulse was to step back. The action seemed to amuse Snufkin, drawing a deep chuckle from him as he cornered Moomin against a cave wall.

"What's got you so shy all of a sudden?"

Moomin's tail bat cautiously against the rock. Something in Snufkin's gaze looked almost predatory, and he wasn't used to seeing his friend act like that. Not when they fished, not when they went egg hunting, not when they were chasing Stinky for some reason or another.

Snufkin was a fairly composed kind of person, with a good grip on his own instincts. If he let things slip out like that, it was intentional.

Moomin was glad that Snufkin seemed to like him. He didn't know what Mumrikar were usually into, and assumed he might seem quite foreign to Snufkin's eyes, the same way he had to him. But oh, Moomin had loved every inch of him, and clearly Snufkin was returning the sentiment judging by the hungry way he looked at him, tongue slipping out to wet his lips.

A spark ran through Moomin when Snufkin touched him, thin fingers that Moomin recognised intimately in his hand, but had only ever imagined down there. They felt quite new like this. And it certainly differed from when Moomin did it himself, every touch more intense as Snufkin mapped him out with the tips of his fingers, seeming entranced by the curve upwards.

Moomin was almost startled to hear Snufkin's voice through the rush of blood in his ears.

"It's quite like you. I don't believe it could belong to anyone else."

Moomin gazed down at him curiously. Like him? He didn't understand.

"What do you mean?"

It seemed as though Snufkin had been waiting for that, waiting for a reason to speak his mind.

"It's cute," he started, and Moomin felt the blood rush back up to his face. "All roundness to it. Sweet as a button." His thumb ghosted over the head and Moomin's hips bucked involuntarily. "But it looks sturdy behind all that softness." Snufkin gazed back up at him. "Just like you. I've seen it more than once when you've lifted me in the past." His eyes turned glassy as if in deep thought and he visibly shuddered and Moomin could guess what he was thinking. He twitched in Snufkin's hand and that seemed to draw his attention back and stirred him into doing something Moomin quite did not expect.

Snufkin leaned in and pressed a quick kiss against the head as his hand moved up along the ridge. And then he wrapped his lips around him and Moomin's bones turned liquid.

Snufkin's tongue flicked against the slit before a hum vibrated through Moomin's length and he started to see stars behind his eyelids, and remembered how talented Snufkin was with his harmonica, quick moving and precise, with sturdy lungs. The mark of an experienced musician.

He was sure Snufkin could sing a whole song around him and Moomin would die. It would kill him certainly.

Another thought crossed his mind then.

"You've done this before?"

The look Snufkin shot him was unmistakably flustered. He still had his mouth on Moomin, but popped off with a kissing sound.

"A few times," he admitted hesitantly. "I do have Mymble blood…"

Moomin laughed at that but something in his chest constricted painfully. Snufkin has done this with other people, had been intimate like this with other people. It wasn't that Moomin was unhappy for him, or was guilting him for it. It was only that it had dawned on him how insignificant this would be to his friend. To him, it was one of many encounters.

To Moomin, this would be a singular, unique moment.

He was determined to cherish it all he could before it flew out of his hands like Autumn leaves. Before Snufkin would walk out of the valley and share a tender moment like this with another.

Despite Moomintroll's best attempts at appearing unaffected, Snufkin could tell. He could always tell. Snufkin could read him like a book. Just like how Moomin could read him, if he paid particular attention, which he didn't always.

Perhaps that was how he'd missed it.

"Oh Moomintroll… My lovely Moomintroll…" Snufkin spoke as he stood and reached out to cup Moomin's snout. His thumbs rubbed comfortingly into his fur as he stared deeply into the other's eyes. Moomin could swear he could feel the intensity that Snufkin was trying to convey. He gasped softly.

"This is all I've wanted. More than I could have asked for," Snufkin whispered to him.

"Really?" Moomin asked in disbelief.

"Really. You know I only do what I want. And I've wanted his very much. In fact…" Snufkin knelt back down and pressed the crown of his head into Moomin's hip bone, kissing the side of his shaft all while still gazing up at him tenderly. "I've dreamt of this."

The air escaped Moomin's lungs. "You have?"

"I have." Another kiss. "Many times." A lick down to the base. Moomin keened. "It's a favourite."

"Oh." Moomin had no idea what to say. His brain felt fuzzy, his legs shaky as Snufkin's dexterous fingers wrapped around him and twisted upwards to match the trail of his tongue.

Sounds escaped Moomin without his volition, pulled out of his body by Snufkin's motions. Soft moans and groans, small huffs and gasps.

Snufkin took him into his mouth again, deeper yet. It was so, so warm. His tongue formed around Moomin like it belonged against him, and Snufkin began bobbing shallowly, fingers playing along what he couldn't fit.

He slipped off again to lick up the ridge and play at the head with his thumb. Moomin's tail bat against the cave wall excitedly, his cock twitching and weeping rather thick dollops like Moomins tended to. Everything about Moomins was made for gentleness.

Snufkin lapped at him eagerly. Moomin could see him slightly bounce on his toes and couldn't help but wonder if Snufkin's legs were growing tired.

He reluctantly pulled Snufkin upright by the shoulders, mouth popping off of him and dragging with it a string of saliva that broke off quickly. Snufkin looked confused.

"Are you sore?" Moomin asked with a worried tone. "I don't want you to hurt yourself squatting like that for so long." But Snufkin only chuckled, eyes softening with emotion.

"I am perfectly fine, Moomin." Snufkin clasped one of the hands on his shoulders, urging it to release, and dragged it down his own body, as if trying to prove his point. "More than fine, even," Snufkin purred and Moomin gasped when his fingers met wetness again.

Moomin was struck with an impulse, a desperate feeling to be as close to Snufkin as possible. He wrapped his arms tight around him and pulled him to his chest. He was relieved to feel Snufkin welcoming it, holding him in turn. But it wasn't quite what Moomin needed. It wasn't enough.

"Snufkin… I'd like to…" Moomin tried but a lump formed in his throat, the words failing to come out. His cock was pressed against Snufkin's warm thigh and twitched pitifully.

A hand left Moomin's back and Snufkin's fingers squeezed between their joint bodies to take hold of him and rub him. Moomin made a desperate sound and Snufkin pressed a kiss on his chest where he could reach.

"Would you like to do something else?" Snufkin asked.

"Yes!" Moomin answered immediately before thoughts could even form in his head. "No! I mean… yes, I'd like to try something else if you want but I want to keep feeling you. To keep doing this."

Snufkin laughed softly and Moomin could feel the tremors through his own chest.

"Silly Moomintroll. I wasn't suggesting we stop unless you want to. I'd also like to keep doing this with you. I'm not done quite yet. And neither are you."

He was right, Moomin was still aching but his thoughts focused on the dripping wetness between Snufkin's legs.

"Oh how can I help?"

Snufkin's thumb ran over his head, spreading a new drop.

"Just like you, always thinking about others."

"Maybe there is something we can do that'll feel good for both of us." Moomin suggested breathily.

Snufkin leaned back so Moomin could see his sly expression.

"There are many, but I have a rather unoriginal one in mind." And with that Snufkin ground his hips against Moomin and drew a gasp from the troll.

"But I'll need some more lubricant I'm afraid, even with as generous as you've been." Moomin felt himself flush. How embarrassing. Snufkin didn't need to comment on that. Instead of acknowledging it, Moomin tried to look around them for anything of use.

"There isn't much here. I doubt water will help." And Snufkin shook his head but gazed long at the pool, as if struck by an idea. He seemed to decide against it, however.

"Maybe next time we should have some fun in the water. But not now." He turned back to Moomin. "I have something, but it's in my pack."

"That's a bit far away," Moomin lamented, not really wanting to leave the comfort of the cave.

"It'll be worth it. I promise." Close like this, Snufkin's hot breath was blowing on his snout. And when he licked his lips, Moomin could hear it.

Snufkin was more often than not right about these sorts of things. And he sounded very convincing. Moomin did not hesitate any longer, and pulled Snufkin over to the pile of clothes. Snufkin stumbled a bit, the sand and his shaky legs not helping, but they quickly gathered his belongings.

Snufkin's coat was still slightly damn where it had been creased, but he pulled it over his head nonetheless, with nothing underneath.

"I only have one pair of pants and I'd rather not make them unwearable," He explained as they circled the pool. He had sand stuck to the back of his legs, and it no doubt continued up. As if to prove it, he bent down to pick up his boots and hat by the entrance of the cave and Moomin had to quickly look away. When Snufkin stood back up, his grin told him he'd done it intentionally.

Moomin knew no one would even see them at such an hour, but he felt very exposed, and had to borrow Snufkin's hat to cover himself with before they exited.

Without the water for moonlight to bounce off of, the world outside the cave looked almost pitch black to Moomin. The shimmer over the sea did little to provide light with how far down it was. Snufkin had to grip his free paw tightly and help him along the ledge, acting as his eyes.

Once on safe ground with the grass beneath their feet, Snufkin bumped into Moomin's side and pulled their joint paws under his coat, brushing the back of Moomin's paw against his hip for only a second. Moomin couldn't help but find it silly, and oddly… romantic? He supposed? It made him all giggly, like they were doing something that wasn't allowed. It was infectious, it seemed, because Snufkin joined him.

They laughed as they ran towards Snufkin's tent, the latter trying to keep Moomintroll from tripping over his feet too much, but not slowing down.

\--

When they got there, Snufkin hung his wet pants and undershirt over a tree branch. Then he briefly left Moomin standing on the bank with the familiar, lulling sound of the stream as he slunk into his tent to retrieve what he needed. He'd left the bottle of oil with his cooking supplies, all piled up in a corner for easy access.

Moomin was staring up into the night sky when he stepped out, and did not react until Snufkin touched his arm. He turned, despite knowing full well he couldn't see Snufkin, and allowed himself to be lead wherever Snufkin wanted.

They settled in the grass by Snufkin's tent, Moomin accidentally caging him in between his arms as he was pulled down. Usually Snufkin might have minded, but he couldn't bring himself to in that moment, instead wrapping an arm under Moomin to scratch at his back. It was a sort of sweet position that they held for a moment, before Moomin shifted his balance to free him, and Snufkin pushed a medium size bottle into his paw the moment he lifted it.

"Oh! Is this it?"

"Yes. It's olive oil."

He watched Moomin scrunch his nose up in confusion.

"The same you use for cooking?"

"It works well, and it's safe."

Moomin accepted it, and sat back with it in his paw.

"Do you think you can do this?" Snufkin asked. Moomin didn't look sure. He looked like he had no idea what he was supposed to do, which Snufkin understood patiently.

"Um."

"No worries, I can take care of it," Snufkin answered easily, and touched Moomin's shoulder. He trailed his fingers down his arm until he reached his hand, and gently pried the bottle out of his grasp. When Snufkin spoke again, his voice was gravelly, enticing. 

"You just sit back and watch."

Moomin instantly seemed to perk up at that, ears and tail standing up excitedly, before drooping a second later.

"Snufkin, I can't see."

Oh. Right. Snufkin was silent for a beat before bursting into laughter. He had completely forgotten. It happened sometimes.

"I suppose I will have to be your eyes for this."

Moomin gave a disappointed whine and Snufkin couldn't help but chuckle again. He took Moomin's paw in his.

"Don't worry. I'll make it good for you," he repeated Moomin's words from earlier in the day. That single sentence had fried his brain when he'd heard it, and set his blood ablaze. It was corny, but he didn't think he could forget it.

Snufkin settled back, making himself comfortable, and tugging his coat up to bunch around his waist. He urged Moomin between his legs and released his paw.

"Let me just get started," he spoke as he uncorked the bottle with a pop.

He poured some oil into his palm carefully over the grass so as not to get it anywhere else but where was needed. He didn't much enjoy that feeling.

Slightly pressing the cork back in so it wouldn't spill, he set the bottle to the side where the ground felt flat enough for it not to tip over. He would have to remember to close it properly after they were done lest it spill all over his pack.

He spread the oil over his fingers and wasted no more time in bringing his paw between his legs. He briefly played at himself to get himself going again but did not need much as his excitement over the situation had faltered little on the way over.

So, feeling ready, he dipped lower to press again his opening. He willed himself to relax, muscles in his legs growing heavy. He eased a finger in slowly but firmly, fighting against slight resistance before he breached at the first knuckle. The way up to the second knuckle went in smoothly, and as he began to thrust in earnestly, his other hand found Moomin's.

Dear, sweet Moomintroll, who had been sitting patiently without a word. He pulled his paw forward and set it on the hand between his legs.

Moomin let out a soft "Oh!" as he felt the motion of Snufkin's hand pushing in and out of himself. The wet sounds made Moomin's ears twitch and angle down, which Snufkin couldn't help but find amusing.

Moomin's fingers followed his index down, and Snufkin stilled to let him feel. A furred digit traced around his own where it breached into him, and Moomin let out a soft, wonderous gasp that had Snufkin chuckle.

He nudged Moomin's finger just slightly so he could push another one into himself and start pumping in and out again, this time Moomin feeling along.

Snufkin parted his fingers and Moomin's slipped between his. They both started with a laugh. "Can I…" Moomin trailed off as his finger followed Snufkin's down.

"Of course," Snufkin spoke, and stretched himself out further so Moomin could ease between. Moomin's finger was much thicker and pushed against his own much slimmer ones to fit. Not to mention that the feeling of fur inside of him felt quite odd.

But Moomin wiggled his finger and laughed nervously and Snufkin was struck by how much he loved him and how glad he was to have him close.

He ground against Moomin's hand and pulled his own fingers out of himself to push Moomin further in instead.

"This is so weird," Moomin spoke with a chuckle in his voice. Snufkin hummed. There was not much to say. He released Moomin for a moment to uncork the bottle again and gather more oil which he spread over Moomin's own fingers.

Snufkin's oily paw settled on the fuzzy back of Moomin's, and guided it to move.

"You can put another in," he spoke and watched as Moomin blinked quickly and very gently did so. The amount felt much like earlier, when he had his own fingers in alongside Moomin's, although the troll's fingers were much shorter and did not reach very deep even when pushed in to the last knuckle.

Nonetheless, Snufkin relished the feeling, guiding Moomin at the speed he liked.

Something knocked against their joint hands and Moomin quickly apologised.

Snufkin looked down to find that Moomin had been pleasuring himself as well, his hand having hit against their others as he pumped his length in time with his fingers.

Snufkin did not hesitate to pull Moomin out of him and scoot his way closer. Moomin's head snapped up to look into the darkness where Snufkin should be, but his look of confusion quickly morphed into surprise when Snufkin's crotch met his, and Moomin immediately grabbed his sides. It didn't take much more than that to convince Moomin to grind against him.

Snufkin let himself flop down, muscles loosening as Moomin pushed his hips against him, over and over again. It was clumsy, but the sensation was maddening, sliding smooth between his folds, or rough against his pelvis when Moomin slipped. Even better was when Moomin dragged against his cock, sending sparks up his spine.

Snufkin's body was trembling, claws digging into the ground beneath him. Bits of grass and dirt were stuck to his skin, caked onto the side of his face, and he could still feel the coarse sand stuck to him. He must have looked a mess, but he didn't care about such things, never had. And he knew Moomin wouldn't either, if he could see him clearly. If anything, it might have made him glow with love and Snufkin would have melted into a puddle.

And then how could Moomin possibly hold him? How could Moomin run his fuzzy paws down his sides and pull his hips closer? How could Moomin grind against him so deliciously, his fur dragging against the dampness between them?

Snufkin was thankful that he was silent. Sounds hardly escaped him in such moments. When his escapades would ask, he would usually force out an act, half hearted and unpleasant, just enough to establish that he didn't mean it or care, and they would stop asking. But Moomin didn't need one. Moomin could tell how he was doing without those types of cues. And he deserved only Snufkin's genuine reactions.

And anyway, Moomin was making enough noise for the both of them, groaning and huffing and keening against Snufkin's skin, sounding every bit like he was unravelling. A passing ear might not have been privy to Snufkin's presence but this was a dance between the both of them, and Snufkin was quite in the same state.

Moomin pulled away and pawed at the grass beside him, so Snufkin passed him the bottle. He poured oil over himself with a hastiness that told of his desperation. When he set the bottle down and got that timid and concerned look in his eyes, Snufkin knew instantly what he was going to ask.

“Yes,” he breathed out without hesitation before even hearing the question. But of course his premature answer did not soothe Moomin’s worries, whose oily fingers had taken to twirling through the tuff of his tail, fur sticking together as he released strands.

“Are you sure about this, Snufkin?”

"I've never been more sure. Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Moomin grinned wide at him and hastily pressed his snout against his lips in a Moomin kiss before grinding against him again. Snufkin released one of his shoulders and slid his hand down to help Moomin angle himself. His thumb and pinky stretched himself open, other fingers reaching out to Moomin’s member to guide him along.

Moomin inhaled a deep laboured breath as the tip of his cock nestled between Snufkin’s warm folds, He stayed still for a moment, and Snufkin didn’t urge him. Moomin could take as much time as he needed.

But when a broken sounding exhale wheezed out of his friend, Snufkin couldn’t help but panic. Moomin was crying. Something was wrong.

Snufkin retracted his hand as if burned and made to reach out for Moomin’s face, to tell him they could stop, to comfort him and apologize.

But Moomin stopped him in his tracks when he cried out a few words he had not been expecting.

“I love you!”

He promptly buried his snout in Snufkin’s neck and held onto him tight, like he might disappear. Snufkin wasn’t going anywhere. He felt frozen in place, brain full of cotton, unable to process the turmoil of emotions running through his body. Moomin had said he loved him. His crush. His best friend. His single most important person. Snufkin could hardly believe it. It had to be the heat of the moment. Moomin was just saying things.

But by the Booble, Snufkin was going to pretend. He was going to take everything he could from this moment and in the morning he’d bury it deep and Moomin would apologize profusely and beg for things to stay the same and Snufkin would assure him they were fine, and ignore the bitter sting in his chest.

And they would move on.

But for a few minutes, Moomin would love him. And he would let himself love Moomin in turn.

Snufkin’s arms wrapped around his love and he let out a soft chuckle.

“I love you too, my dear Moomintroll,” he whispered into the troll’s ear, which fluttered from the tickle of his breath.

Moomin only buried closer. They were still touching down there and the movement caused a tingle to run up Snufkin’s spine, which he tried his best to ignore. Moomin was still talking to him, after all.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. I thought maybe we both knew there was something there and I wouldn’t have to say it. But I wanted to say it. Oh Snufkin I needed to say it so bad.”

Snufkin’s stomach knotted. Oh. Oh.

Oh no.

What a fool he was. And he was about to be terribly in trouble if he didn’t stop Moomin right now. Snufkin’s paw instinctively flew to Moomin’s snout and pushed him away from his neck. His friend blinked in confusion.

Snufkin swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping for his voice to come out nonchalant.

“It… _was_ nice to be so young and carefree…” Don’t mention the confession, don’t mention the confession. “To just accept what we had without labels.”

“Yeah…” Moomin breathed, pushing into his paw affectionately and closing his eyes. “But we’re not young anymore and… I would like to call this something.”

“...Sex?”

Moomin’s eyes flew open and he sputtered in shock, reeling. Snufkin couldn’t hold back a loud snort before a white fuzzy paw landed in his face, effectively silencing him. By then Moomin had pulled his lower half away completely, and Snufkin guessed he’d ruined the mood. He pushed at Moomin's fingers just enough to peek up at his scandalized friend.

“Is that not what we were doing?”

“It’s not what I was talking about!” Moomin huffed, arms flying up. Freed, Snufkin pushed himself up on his elbows to stare smugly at the frowning mountain of fluff sitting between his legs.

“Then what would you call this?”

That broke Moomin out of his brief exasperation, and he looked into Snufkin’s eyes pensively.

“I don’t know,” he eventually admitted. “Lovers? Boyfriends? If… if you want. I don’t want to make you feel trapped.”

Snufkin’s chest constricted. Moomin really was serious about this, and was trying to work with him, to be considerate of his feelings. Snufkin kept trying to evade every genuine sentiment thrown his way like he was playing dodgeball with Moomin’s feelings. What a mess. Even in times like these his mind tried to bury all thoughts of love and Moomin, and love for Moomin. Even when he told himself he’d indulge in his fantasy. Even when that fantasy proved to be very much real.

Snufkin tried hard to calm the pounding in his ears and think. Actually think. About what he wanted of Moomin, with Moomin.

The troll in question found his paw in the dark and took it in his own, waiting patiently.

But it didn’t take much longer, as the moment Snufkin looked into his eyes, sadly lacking their bright blue tone in the dark of night, he had made a decision. A decision that whatever they decided to be, he wouldn’t run from it.

“Perhaps… some change and clarity can be nice. The older one gets, probably more so. We can decide on what to call it later, but whatever this is, I don’t think I mind it at all. And I could never feel trapped when I’m with you. You know this.” Snufkin squeezed his paw and smiled, and Moomin beamed at him like he’d just hung the stars and moon for him. It was just the sight Snufkin had hoped for.

Moomin shuffled back against him, reigniting every nerve in his body, and started moving in gentle circles. The wetness had dried out a bit, making staying in place much easier and creating a maddening friction. Snufkin was eager to see that moomin was still up for doing this. He thought that was the end of the conversation, that they were going back to what they had been doing.

But apparently he was wrong, as Moomin leaned back over him with eyes boiling over with love, completely ignoring Snufkin’s earlier suggestion that they talk about it later.

"I'd been trying to worm my way into your heart for years. And here I am, having wormed my way into your pants first."

Snufkin laughed. "Oh Moomin. Did you really not notice? You'd already long succeeded in that first one. There was nowhere left to worm into but my pants, I suppose."

"Oh. Well I'm glad for that."

"Yes, so am I."

“I’d like to be boyfriends,” Moomin stated suddenly, with confidence. Apparently he'd already made his decision.

Truthfully, Snufkin had no complaint.

“Boyfriends it is, then.”

Moomin beamed down at him, and nuzzled his nose. He was still sliding against him, tantalizingly so. It was driving Snufkin mad but he did appreciate the moment to rewet himself. And Moomin was doing a stellar job of helping and spreading those juices around.

Snufkin felt absolutely filthy. And a little dehydrated, if he was being honest. His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth unpleasantly. But that was a concern for later. Right now, he needed Moomin, the empty feeling in his gut insistent.

He spoke his boyfriend’s name and the other caught on, sitting back and repositioning himself. Snufkin fumbled for the bottle in the grass next to him and handed it back to Moomin, who took it gratefully and poured more oil over himself, most of it dripping in the grass. Snufkin was going to run out at this rate and would have to ask Moominmamma if he could borrow some oil in the morning if he wanted to have breakfast.

Snufkin let his thighs flop over Moomin’s and when Moomin bounced forward to get closer, Snufkin’s hips lifted along. He would have felt embarrassed at being so exposed if it wasn’t too dark for Moomin to see anyway and if he didn’t need him in him yesterday.

Moomin generously poured the rest of the oil into his paw and felt around Sufkin’s groin for his opening, dipping a fuzzy finger in to make sure he was still well lubricated. Snufkin squirmed in his lap impatiently.

Thankfully, Moomin finally obliged him, pulling his finger out and replacing it with his cock. He eased into Snufkin slowly, carefully. When he sank in, no longer at risk of slipping out, he took his paw away from himself and gripped onto Snufkin’s hips as he locked eyes with him.

Moomin groaned loudly as he continued pushing in much more smoothly. In moments he was almost to the hilt and thrust in the last fraction of an inch, grinding hard as if he could go deeper, fuse into Snufkin's skin.

He shut his eyes tight and tears started forming along his white lashes. Snufkin was still staring at him. He knew now that those tears were a good sign, and it made him all the more happy that he was affecting Moomin so much. He was making his boyfriend feel good. That was what he wanted, to give him something extraordinary.

And it felt so for Snufkin too, pleasantly full and incredibly warm. Moomin pressed against his walls, curving just right, and if Snufkin focused he could make out the slight bumps and ridges along the length.

And then Moomin's hips, as if on instinct, pulled back, said ridges dragging against Snufkin's insides, and slammed into him harshly, pushing Snufkin against the grass. Snufkin's breath skipped.

Oh. Oh that was special. Snufkin could already see stars just at the thought of what Moomin could do.

But Moomin didn't seem so excited, rather startled by his own roughness, hands clasping over his own snout before quickly reaching towards Snufkin, an apology already spilling out. Snufkin stopped him with a paw on his and a plead.

"Please. Please don't stop again. That was good."

Moomin gazed at him as if he'd discovered something unexpected and didn't know what to do with it. But he pulled back, further this time, and pushed back in just slightly gentler. And then again. Snufkin could do with this. He started rolling his hips in circular motions with Moomin's thrusts, trying to intensify the feeling.

It didn't take long for Moomin to loosen up, thrusts becoming more confident and picking up on Snufkin's movements. He was gasping and groaning like he couldn't get enough.

Between the two of them, they began establishing a rhythm, with crescendos and staccatos. Shifting from fast and rough, to gentler, then torturously slow, letting Snufkin feel every inch of Moomin, and Moomin feel all of him in turn. They locked eyes during those moments, and Moomin nuzzled into his collarbone. Snufkin loved that, loved the tenderness with which Moomin pleasured him. And loved the next moment when they would grow desperate and push against each other like their connection was the only thing real in the world, grasping at each other, pulling their bodies close.

Moomin's paw would slip between them to toy with Snufkin's cock at intervals. Feathery soft touches of his thumb during the loving moments, and clumsy pawing with his palm during the messy ones.

Snufkin's thighs trembled, his muscles tightened, and his breath shuddered out of him. Moomin played him like a broken instrument. No sound came out but the vibrations still ran through him. He was still responsive.

Perhaps he should give Moomin a real, proper instrument. One he could play. Not Snufkin's harmonica, they had tried that before and Moomin was not the most talented. He knew Moomin still tried it whenever Snufkin left it with him.

But maybe Snufkin's body was plenty. And after all, he wasn't doing this alone, Snufkin was guiding him. Who knew if Moomin could play on his own? But he could certainly follow along. And beautifully, at that.

The way they made love (love!) felt like a song specifically about them.

Three parts boisterous and a little clumsy, two part soft, with a tinge of longing, and one part desperate.

He thought he might play it someday. Just for the two of them. He could surely never forget the notes.

Snufkin's eyes fluttered open. He didn't know when he had closed them, but he was greeted with the swirl of stars above them, strikingly beautiful and almost seeming to flow along with the feeling in Snufkin's veins.

"Look," he whispered, reaching out to tilt Moomin's snout up, and the troll gasped at the sight. They'd seen the night sky so many times before. They had escaped on many a night like this just to see the stars. Snufkin had traced constellations with his fingers and told Moomin stories about them. But they had never seen it like this, with their hearts and bodies overwhelmed and brimming with emotion.

The sky felt entirely new that night.

When Moomin came, it was with a loud strangled cry. His movements stilled, cock buried to the hilt and throbbing inside Snufkin as he released. Snufkin was thankful they were too far from Moominhouse to be heard, or they would have surely woken someone.

Those thoughts were chased away when a shaky paw reached down to Snufkin's cock again, playing with him as best as Moomin could in that state. It was plenty. Snufkin tensed, body wracked with tremors. His thighs snapped shut and he curled into himself, latching onto Moomin's shoulders as he clenched around poor Moomintroll. His overstimulated boyfriend mewled pitifully but did not pull out until Snufkin's orgasm died down, his muscles relaxing and allowing him to lie back, hands sliding along Moomin's arms to hold his paws.

They were both panting, Snufkin still twitching sporadically around empty air. He was terribly wet, inside and out. It was slowly starting to feel unpleasant.

Moomin let go of one of his paws to lie down next to him, and Snufkin's legs fell loosely apart, knee bumping into Moomin's and resting there. He was sweaty all over, even at the back of his knees. He was also overheating, and was thankful for the night breeze against his skin and between his legs. Compared to his body temperature, the hot summer air felt almost cool, and smelled of sex and sweat. Snufkin knew it would permeate into his tent walls and stick around for the following day. It would have been worse had they done this inside.

Snufkin's head rolled to face his boyfriend, who wore a sneaky expression. He felt fingers run down his damp skin and back down between his legs, where Moomin began to lazy play with his hole, thoughtfully avoiding his oversensitive cock. He spread a drop that Snufkin had felt slip out of him, and Snufkin hummed. The initial moment after he had come was overwhelming, but it had passed and Snufkin did enjoy being worked down from such an event. Sometimes the sudden change was too much of a shock.

"Payback," Moomin said with a yawn, and Snufkin couldn't complain, instead smiling lovingly at him. Surely Moomin could tell he wasn't bothering Snufkin with this, rather doing him a favour.

Eventually his hand stopped, laying still over his crotch, and the two locked eyes. Moomin could barely keep his open, lids heavy, and let them fall shut.

After a moment, Snufkin thought Moomin might have fallen asleep, and was starting to consider dragging them into his tent before Moomin shifted and pressed his snout into his cheek.

"I really did mean it. I love you."

Snufkin's heart did somersaults. He turned onto his side to press his forehead against moomin's snout in turn.

"I know. I love you too."

Moomin's tail flopped over him affectionately.

Snufkin hated to ruin the moment but something was becoming more pressing by the minute.

"We should get washed up. I feel disgusting… and dehydrated. And I need to piss."

Moomin laughed at that, beautiful blue eyes opening again.

"The pool is kind of far away. I guess we can wash in the river after you do that."

Snufkin hummed. They would. Once their limbs turned solid again.

"If you want you can stay in my tent tonight."

Moomin beamed at him and they finally got up and got ready to wash themselves again and crawl into the comforting tent.

Snufkin had a feeling they were going to wake long after they usually did. Hopefully they would not have too many questions to answer tomorrow. If they were lucky.


End file.
